Chapter 12 – The Blame Game

"Poppy!" Maudie cried, and Art Decker heard and let out a yell.

"Look out!"

It was enough of a warning to set everything in motion. Collins was near the mouth of the canyon; he wheeled his horse around and came barreling over, firing wildly in the direction Decker's warning had come from. One of the bullets headed straight for Bart and caught him square in the shoulder, toppling him head first off of his horse. He hit the ground with an awful 'thud' and the air was knocked clean out of him, and he drifted immediately into unconsciousness.

Beau and the kids had too much of a head start on Collins and Decker, and the rustlers finally gave up the chase and returned to the starting point of their pursuit, with one small exception . . . they now had an injured man on their hands. "Is he dead?" Collins asked, as Decker climbed down off his horse.

Decker could see the rising and falling of Bart's chest. "Nope," the rustler answered. "What should we do with him?"

"Leave him there."

"He'll die, " Decker was sure of that. He'd seen enough men bleed out to know the future for the wounded man.

"So what? He ain't our problem."

"It was his kid that yelled."

"Like I said, so what? He ain't our problem."

"She'll carry that around with her for the rest of her life."

Collins was trying to figure out why Decker cared. "So?"

"I got a kid of my own, and it'd destroy her."

"We stole his horses. That didn't bother you. What'a you care about his kid?"

Decker picked up the injured man and laid him across the saddle, then climbed up behind him. "I ain't leavin' him here to bleed to death."

Collins shook his head. "I oughta shoot you and leave you both here."

Decker turned his horse towards Granbury, the next place they were headed for. "I got some friends, got a little farm north of town. If he's still alive when we get there, I'll leave him there. If he ain't . . ."

"And if he's alive he'll know what we look like, and you'll hang right along with the rest of us."

"He couldn't have seen us, Art. He ain't gonna have no way to identify us. And the DuPonts owe me. They'll tell him they found him on the road. He won't never know any difference."

Collins shook his head again and waited until Decker was riding in front of him, then reached for his gun. The safest thing he could do was shoot Decker and dump the rancher. He had the Colt hallway out of its holster when something stopped him, and he let the gun slide back down. "Crazy damn fool," he muttered, and he wasn't sure if he was talking about Decker or himself.

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Bret had been riding about an hour when the rains hit. They showed up out of nowhere and brought thunder and lightning with them, and he was forced to take shelter in a small grove of trees and wait it out. It rained the rest of the day and most of the night, and by the time it stopped there was nothing left of the trail he'd been following. Bret was left to play a hunch and keep heading towards Fort Worth. With any luck Beau had gotten Dave Parker to form a posse and they were headed in the same direction.

Bret was running on pure instinct. Much as he had the year he spent looking for Bart when everyone believed his brother dead, there was something telling him that wasn't true. He kept going, knowing somewhere deep inside that Bart was still alive. With everything they'd been through, Bret couldn't believe he'd lose his brother now. He held out hope of finding Bart and bringing him home.

He stopped in Granbury for supplies and then headed towards Fort Worth. He went right past the little farm that was six miles northwest of the town, never for one moment suspecting how close he was to finding the man he was searching for. Two days later the Little Bend posse caught up with the older Maverick brother, and they hurried towards Fort Worth, aware of the fact that in all probability, that's where the B Bar M horses were headed.

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Doralice had done everything in her power to keep her daughter's hopes up, but Maudie was certain that her father was dead and she was responsible. Even worse, after hearing exactly what had happened, Belle blamed her sister and refused to have anything to do with her. Beauregard was more understanding, but he was silent and despondent. Breton sat in his room all day and stared out the window, and Lily simply didn't understand.

An air of gloom hung over every aspect of the ranch. Benny found Maudie curled up in the barn, with one of the hounds wrapped around her. He sat down next to her and tried to cheer her up, all to no avail.

"It's a good sign that nobodies come back. That means they haven't found him yet."

She sat up and shook her head. "No, it just means they haven't found his body."

"Why are you so certain he's dead?"

"Because it's my fault. I loved him so much and I killed him. And I'll never forgive myself."

"You didn't kill him, Maudie."

"Yes, Benny, I did." She paused and took a deep breath. "Belle won't talk to me, and I don't blame her."

"I'm as much to blame as you are. If I hadn't nudged you, you wouldn't have cried out for him."

"Stop it, you two. It's not your fault." Doralice had appeared in the doorway of the barn; she'd spent the last hour looking for her daughter. "Bret will find him and bring him back to us. I know he will."

"I wish I could believe you, Momma."

Doralice walked over to her daughter and helped her stand up. "Have I ever lied to you, Maudie?"

"No, ma'am."

"See? I'm not about to start now. Come inside with me and help me with supper."

"Where's Lily Mae?"

"Lily Mae doesn't feel well. She's in bed. I need your help. You too, Benny. Come with us."

"See, Lily Mae thinks Daddy's dead, too. She's grieving for him."

"Maudie, not another word about your father being dead and it being your fault. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself, no matter what happened. Both of you, come with me."

Reluctantly, the boy and girl followed Doralice inside. If she couldn't keep Maudie from wailing about killing her father, she could keep her so busy that there would be no time to think. And maybe she'd stop blaming herself. God knows Doralice couldn't stand to hear any more of it. Especially since she didn't believe it.